Chapter Sixty-Six - Return to Form

“The government ignoring the mental health issues of the average citizen is fine. Except for real nutjobs, it’s hard to really tell if a person’s depressed or broken inside or whatever.

Basically, as long as it’s an invisible problem, it’s not a problem that you can really run a platform on.

But the mental health of samurai?

A samurai that loses it? That sees one too many people get gibbed by aliens? Well now, that’s entirely too fucking scary to think about.

--CandidCast podcast interview with political psychologist Hulo Wells, 2038

***

A pair of guards stopped me just outside of the room, and for some reason, when they gently led me into another part of the floor where there was a sofa to sit on and a few chairs for the guards to occupy, I didn’t protest or fight back.

“Miss Stray Cat?”

I leaned forwards and clasped my hands together. It stopped them from trembling a little.

Catherine. You’re entering a state of shock, mild though it may be. Give yourself some time to process the adrenaline in your system. While that is happening, let’s go over the events that just transpired.

“Not the time, Myalis,” I muttered.

It is precisely the time. Focus on the cause. A human brain might only have a few simple and animalistic responses to threats, but that doesn’t mean that it is entirely useless at deconstructing a threat once it is past.

“Fine,” I said.

“Miss Stray Cat?” the guard asked.

I raised my hand in a ‘one-moment’ gesture, and the guard backed off for the moment.

First, you entered the room because you received a package, one addressed directly to you, but which set off an alarm.

I nodded.

Second, you inspected the package. It asked for your identification. On giving it, the trap unravelled and an explosive device, likely a concussion-based device with a shell meant to create fragmentation. This caused you very mild harm in the form of a light concussive blow. It also killed the young woman assisting you at the time.

I closed my hands so hard my fingers hurt. “Yeah.”

Good. You seem to understand the situation. Your current state is caused by a few factors. First, the surprise of an unexpected attack. Second, the light injury you received. Third, the death of the young woman assisting you.

The first and third causes are the ones I will address now. This location, the hotel, is one that you thought was safe. You lowered your guard. An understandable reaction, though one that has backfired in this case. This can be alleviated in the future by heightening your caution. The death of the young woman is unfortunate, and to some degree you are to blame.

I swallowed.

But the majority of that blame lays not on you, but on the person who attempted to assassinate you. Aim your anger there first.

“Okay,” I said. It wasn’t very loud. I didn’t sound like myself.

I have observed your kittens and Lucy to ensure that they are well.

I jumped to my feet, and one of the guards stumbled back and almost fell off his chair at the sudden motion. “The kittens,” I said.

Are safe. I have encouraged Lucy to move them away from the doors and windows and have heightened the level of alert on all the security measures within the suite. They are currently as safe as I can make them.

“Oh,” I said. I felt my heart racing again, but it soon started to calm down, at least a little. “Okay, okay,” I repeated, mostly to myself.

I've tracked down the most likely suspect, as well as their motive. I don’t believe an attack on the Kittens or Lucy would be something they’d plan on doing. Still, I would strongly advise that you go observe your found-family for some time before taking any other actions.

“You want me to go see Lucy?” I asked.

Yes. A lot of your emotional stability relies on her. A large part of your self-identity revolves around the notion that you’re the one that provides for the orphans you care for. Lucy, in turn, has based her self-identity on providing for your emotional and sexual needs while caring for the orphans' own need for a stable figure.

“Uh,” I said. The shock was wearing off, probably. Now I was just feeling rather naked in front of Myalis’ dissection of me. “What’s all that mean?”

The genuine version of this novel can be found on another site. Support the author by reading it there.

It means that you should go hug Lucy because I don’t currently have the arms to do so.

I let out a dry chuckle, then I switched my helmet speakers on. “Alright, sorry about that, I’m going to head out.”

“We had questions, miss,” one of the guards said.

“I’ll have Myalis send you the recording,” I said.

Done.

“You’ll be able to figure it out from there, I think. Meanwhile, I’m going to go check on me and mine. And... and if you two can send me Eleanor’s... nevermind. I’ll look into it on my own. The fucker who did this; I’m going to find them.”

I stomped out of the room and down a corridor. It was only when I was at the end that I realized I had no idea where I was going.

Myalis helped, highlighting the path to the nearest elevator with some handy floating arrows.

I got in, then rode it up to the penthouse floor, all the while trying to keep the shakes at bay. Myalis was right, it was just shock or some shit like that. Was it too soon for PTSD? Probably. I’d deal with it. I’d make the bitch who scared me deal with some traumatic stress too.

The door opened, and I walked out of there just a little bit faster than might have been necessary.

I arrived at the penthouse’s door and opened it without knocking.

One of my mecha cats was waiting for me on the other side, all weapons deployed and pointing at the doorway. I edged around it and moved into the kitchen and living room space. It was empty. Weirdly empty, even. Dirty dishes left behind, the TV playing one of those almost-porn cartoons, but on mute.

Plenty of signs of recent kitten occupation, but not a kitten in sight.

My ears twitched as I heard something shuffling deeper in. I jogged over to one of the first doors past the kitchen, one of the rooms that some of the kittens had taken over as their own. The twins, maybe?

I knocked, and someone moved within and opened the door.

Daniel stared at me. “Yo,” he said.

I sighed. “Hey.”

“Figured it was you. If it wasn’t then there’d be a lot more shooting. Also, if it was someone that could get past the robo-cat out there, then we’d all be fucked anyway, might as well die first, right?” he asked.

“You’re a moron, Daniel,” I said.

He grinned, then looked over his shoulder. “Lucy, it’s your mentally stunted wife.”

The door opened wider a moment later, and Daniel almost tripped without it to hold him up. “Go watch over the kittens,” Lucy said before she squeezed past him, then collided with my chest. “Cat.”

“Lucy,” I said.

I squeezed her close.

“You’re... squishing me,” she complained.

I hesitated, then broke the hug and took a step back. Getting out of the armour took several long seconds, but I was rewarded with another hug the moment I was out of it, this one much warmer and closer.

“Myalis filled me in,” Lucy muttered into my neck.

“Yeah?”

“Yeah,” she repeated.

“I was just worried about you guys,” I said.

She poked me in the ribs. “And we were worried about you. But we’re okay, and you’re okay. Right? You’re not hurt?”

I shook my head. “I’m fine,” I said. “Armour took the blast no problem. It... kinda scared the crap out of me, but I’m fine otherwise.”

Lucy nodded. “Good, good.” She leaned back enough to meet my eyes, and for a long moment she just stared at me, inspecting me closely. “Do you want to talk about it?” she asked.

“Not really,” I admitted. I was still wired up, still a little nervous. Twitchy, maybe.

Lucy grabbed me by the wrist, then tugged me along after her and towards the living room. “Come on, we should sit,” she said.

“I can’t stay for long,” I said.

“You can stay for long enough that I can reassure myself that you’re okay,” Lucy said. There was no give there. If I just off and left I’d regret having four ears when Lucy whined all four of them off later.

“Fine,” I said. I sat on the bigger couch, then sighed, sat up, and tossed some magazine out from where I’d sat.

Lucy promptly sat herself down on me. “There,” she said. “No escape anymore.”

“I could lift you off me,” I said.

“And risk bruising my delicate skin with your brutish hands?” Lucy asked, faux-demurely.

I rolled my eyes, but the banter helped. I could feel some of the tension bleeding off of my back. “Thanks Lucy.”

Lucy laughed and tipped sideways until I had no choice but to hug her. “I love you too,” she said.

***